Repression (oneshot Destiel)
by LucinaBlade
Summary: After an easy hunt, the Winchesters and Castiel go to celebrate. It's never that simple. Or... The story of Castiel's repressed feelings, some jealousy, and a lot of angst (probably). I do not own Supernatural or any characters associated with Supernatural or the CW. I just like borrowing them and manipulating their lives to my own twisted will. There's nothing wrong with that!


_Hey readers! I've missed writing so much and there's finally no time like the present for me to get back to it. It's second quarter in my sophomore year and I finally have everything back under control… so I figure I owe everyone a story. I missed writing so much! It's great to be back. As always, thanks for reading. –Luci B_

The last hunt had been a quick success. The demon had led Dean, Cas, and Sam quickly to their lair, where a quick, bloody battle took place.

So naturally, the Winchesters wanted a drink.

Or two.

Or maybe they wanted to get mind-blowingly drunk.

It was totally the last option.

Cas sat at their table, watching the Winchester brothers facing off across the table, throwing back drink after drink, both men refusing to be the first one to give up.

Finally, Sam stood up, swaying a little bit from side to side, muttering about Dean's iron stomach.

Which left Dean and Cas alone, sitting at a table together in a dark bar.

Surrounded by girls.

Dean leered at them, catching the eyes of a few. One winked at him, sauntering over, leaning over the table and resting on her elbows. The move made Cas sick. The whole atmosphere was unholy, impure, and reeked of bad decisions.

No place for an angel.

So when Dean started shamelessly flirting with the (evidently drunk) girl in front of them, Cas couldn't take it anymore.

He stood up, muttering to Dean that he'd be outside when he was done, and slowly made his way toward the door. When he heard no objection, he risked a glance over his shoulder.

He regretted it.

Dean had his hands tangled in the girl's hair, fervently kissing her. When they pulled away, Cas could see the hazy look in his eyes.

He didn't even spare a glance toward Cas.

Cas made his way into the cool night air, walking around the corner of the short building and leaning against the dark wall in the shadows. The rough brick bit into his back, and he shifted uncomfortably.

He was an angel, he could have flown anywhere in the world to get away, but he had to stay.

For Dean.

Dean, his stupid, reckless, oblivious companion.

Dean would be fine on his own, but Cas knew he'd want someone with him. Cas knew Dean too well.

Friendship was supposed to be about learning the other person, but Cas was beyond that. He had, after all, pulled Dean from Hell itself.

Cas knew Dean's every flaw, every sin, every want and need.

And he was tired of just being 'friends'.

Cas may have known every facet of Dean's personality, but he wanted- no, craved- more. He _needed_ to know how Dean looked on lazy mornings, how his eyes shone when they first opened in the morning, how his breathing slowed before he fell asleep.

He could never ask. Dean would never look at Cas the way Cas looked at Dean when he was looking away. Dean would never look at Cas like he was shaped by God's own hand, every imperfection making him more and more perfect.

Cas _ached_ from it, but he would never tell Dean.

It was too selfish.

Cas heard the door slam shut, followed by the quiet yet unmistakable sound of drunken footsteps.

He stepped around the corner, sighing heavily. And then stopped.

Dean was the one who had stepped out from the bar, and now was frantically looking around the lot, a grin settling into place when he spotted Cas.

Dean's strides toward Cas were eager, long and wild like he couldn't wait to get to the angel.

It made Cas hurt just thinking about how he wished Dean would actually want to see him.

Dean reached Cas, abruptly hugging the angel close.

"Cas, why'd you look so sad?"

Cas chuckled mirthlessly.

"Dean. I'm fine."

Dean pushed back, his hands covering Castiel's shoulders.

"Cas, you're not okay. I can see it. You know how well I know you."

Cas was taken aback by the sobriety and somber tone of Dean's voice, but smiled anyway.

It didn't reach his eyes, and Dean could tell.

"Cas, talk to me. We're friends, that's what friends do."

"Dean, you won't remember anything. You're drunk. Why should I even bother?"

"Because you need to talk about it. Something's been bothering you forever. I wanna help."

Cas took a deep breath.

"Dean, there's someone I really, really care about. He's probably my best friend. But… I can't just be friends anymore. I'm an angel and I may not have had real feelings before, but I just can't shake the idea that I might be in love with him. I shouldn't be… but I am."

Dean sighed.

"It's Sam, isn't it? You love Sam? It's… an odd combination. But hey, I wouldn't want my brother with any less of a good person…"

Cas laughed sadly.

"No, Dean. I'm not in love with Sam."

"Who, then? Garth? God, please tell me it's not Garth. The guy's fun, but a little _too_ fun. You know what? Never mind. Whoever it is, you should tell them. Don't hurt yourself living a lie. You owe it to yourself. You deserve to be happy."

"What if…"

Dean looked at him expectantly.

"What if what, Cas?"

"What if it was _you_ I was in love with?"

Dean laughed.

"It's not me, Cas. It can't be me."

"Dean…"

"Don't you _Dean_ me, Cas. I'm… I'm a mess. I've done some horrible things in my life, I'm not worthy. For Christ's sake, Cas, you're an angel. You deserve someone perfect and pure and worth you…"

Cas pulled Dean to him, crushing him in an embrace.

"Oh, Dean. If you think you're anything less than perfect, you're sincerely wrong."

Dean pulled away, staring into Castiel's eyes.

"Cas, how can you possibly think I'm perfect?"

Cas pulled Dean closer, staring into his eyes.

"This is how, Dean. This is how."

Cas closed the distance between them with a kiss, soft and tentative, pulling away before Dean could object.

Dean's eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted- letting his breath come and go in soft puffs.

When he opened his eyes, Cas still stood in front of him.

He was crying softly, his face angled down.

He refused to look Dean in the eyes.

"I… I had to do that once, Dean. I'll understand if you hate me. I… I should go."

Cas started to walk away, but Dean grabbed his hand and pulled him back.

"Cas, don't you walk away from me. We aren't done here."

Cas looked down, ready for whatever harsh things Dean would spit at him about hating him…

Only to be startled at the feeling of Dean's lips on his again.

When Dean pulled away, they both smiled softly, staring into each other's eyes.

"I don't think we'll ever be done here, Cas."

"I don't ever want us to be done here, Dean."


End file.
